


Veiled

by blakefancier



Series: Necro-fic [2]
Category: Blake's 7
Genre: M/M, Necrophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-26
Updated: 2011-04-26
Packaged: 2017-10-18 16:33:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blakefancier/pseuds/blakefancier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Avon wants, but Blake is in no position to give it to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Veiled

He is cold and unblinking when I crawl into bed with him. I try to warm him with my skin, moan into his mouth a response he can echo back but he is...unwilling. It is unnerving: the gaze that never waivers, the hands that do not touch.

I roll away, breathing harshly, the sound of my hear echoing in my ears.

I do not love this. I do not. I turn to my side and grasp his hand. I lay it flat against my cheek, moving it slowly to feel the calluses catch and scrape my skin.

I should shake him until he blinks. I should shake him until he pulls me close and kisses me.

I kiss him, lick the inside of his mouth and moan that he is mine. He will always be mine and no one will take him from me. I'll kill anyone who tries to take him from me. I thrust against him, hoping that he will respond with his own thrust.

I whisper, "You remember the rhythm, Blake. I know you do. You know how to live. You taught me, remember? Remember? Do you remember?"

There is nothing as I come against him.

No. I kiss his skin, run my tongue over his nipples then kiss a trail to his stomach. There is the taste of salt and copper in my mouth. I lick him clean before moving lower.

There is no response. No filling of my mouth, no hardness. Panting, I rest my cheek against his thigh. I expect to feel his hands clutch my hair. I expect him to pull me up into his arms.

But I am left with nothing.


End file.
